Dear Death,

First and foremost, I would like to apologize for not writing you sooner.

No offense, but thinking about you isn't something that I try to do too often these days.

It isn't flawless, though, not thinking about you. I mean, you are, quite literally, everywhere.

You're constantly in the news, claiming your victims one tragic incident at a time.

You've made your presence known in nearly every novel on my bookshelf.

Hell, even my favorite television show wouldn't be the same if you weren't such a vital element within the plot.

No matter how cruel, by principle, you may be, Death, you truly do keep the world spinning on its axis.

You see, you've gained quite the notorious reputation throughout the years.

And, I mean, it might be a little unfair, but I get it.

I have watched you take away people that I care about.

Because of you, some of my favorite humans on the planet have been devastatingly overcome with grief.

You take and you take and you take, Death, and it's like you don't even care about the aftermath.

But that can't be true, can it?

You can't not care.

Everyone cares, even if they say that they don't.

Either way, I respect you, Death.

I respect you because it can't be an easy job, ending the lives of others— being responsible for their soul upon retrieval.

I can hardly fathom the reactions of the people who come face to face with you.

How frightened they must be, looking into the eyes of the one who is going to end their lives as they know it.

How shocked and how angry they must feel when they think about all of the things they didn't get to do, all of the words they didn't get to say, and all of the people they didn't get to love.

I imagine, though, that every once in a while, you meet some who are more accepting— more willing to take your hand and be lead by you.

While some struggle and resist your touch, others greet you as an old friend.

I, too, have seeked you out on multiple occasions.

Yes, Death, you and I go way back, don't we?

In my darkest hours, I would whisper your name.

Between heart-wrenching sobs, I would talk to you— beg for you to save me.

I was certain that you were the only one that could hear me, the only who cared, the only one who could make it stop.

There were times when handfuls of pills would even bring me that much closer to you, Death.

Not so close that I could look into your eyes, but close enough so that I could see your silhouette through the haziness of my muddled mind.

But you were not ready for me, Death.

And, likewise, I was not ready for you, no matter how much I thought that I was.

It's morbid, isn't it?

To think that way.

To speak to you like this.

Maybe.

But I can't find it in myself to be ashamed.

No matter how much pain you may have caused me and will certainly cause me in the future, Death, you are an integral part of my life— of everyone's life.

So, while you do still cause me to worry, I will not fear you.

Not for myself, not for my loved ones, not for anyone.

You are doing your part, just as I am doing mine.

I will no longer actively pursue you, even in my most desperate moments, Death, because it is not my place to choose when you come for me.

The next time that I meet you, crystal clear, with no second chances, I will be ready.

I will be ready because I believe that you do not come for those who have not fulfilled their purpose on this earth.

Some may look at you and Life as enemies, as utter and complete opposites, but I see you as lovers— I see you as a team, working together to restore balance in the world.

When Life is finished with someone, when that person has given all that they were meant to give, that is when she hands them over to you, Death.

It may be sudden, and it will certainly be painful, but I accept that this fact applies to, not only myself, but to everyone that I know and love.

We can't run this race without accepting the fact that you will be patiently waiting there at the finish line.

So, I will continue to sprint along my path, Death, and when you finally do decide to come for me, I hope that my body is aching, my lungs are on fire, and I can look back and be proud of how far I've come.

That is when I will walk with you, oh-so-willingly, into the next chapter of my existence.

Until then.

Always,
Kaylee